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Everyone and Everything Ohio

Posted by katie ett on October 2, 2012 – 12:00 pm

Filed under just pictures, no i really do love ohio
Tagged as just pictures, no i really do love ohio

It’s an Ohio picture party, and you’re invited! Meaning that you’re obligated to compliment both my family’s and friends’s appearances and my skill in photographing them! You’ll want to look away, but you won’t be able to! THE OHIO DRAWS YOU CLOSER.

My BFF, Tracey, and I went dancing with our friend Kim on Thursday night mere moments after I arrived, as planned, and then Tracey and I spent the next two days doing whatever the hell we wanted to. My dad was busy in the fields shelling corn way ahead of schedule due to this summer’s drought and my sister was stuck working in Kentucky, so I slept in Katie’s Room at Tracey’s house (sheets embroidered with my name forthcoming), and then we woke up both mornings to lazily drink coffee (a first for us), watch “Parks and Recreation” (a second for us), and eat Dairy Queen, Arby’s, or usually both. We visited her husband’s favourite Italian restaurant that may be mine, too, and she showed me her office for the first time since getting her new job. Our friends Erin and Jenn came over for Cards Against Humanity, and I laughed so hard I choked on the ridiculously sweet wine we finished in a matter of moments. Because apparently we are adults now who drink wine and entertain people and DO WHAT WE WANT. Bliss.

Saturday night, I went to my aunt’s surprise party, where I saw half of my family and half of our hometown. I was reminded of just how Ohio State-y everyone is:

But I’m not complaining, because it was SO UNBELIEVABLY WINDY and cold that night, and I had come from tropical NYC in a short-sleeved shirt, so my cousin Bethany lent me a hoodie. Mine wasn’t OSU but “real doctors treat more than one animal”, because she’s a vet.

We ate the giantest hot dogs I’ve ever seen and buckeyes and birthday cake until the sun went down, and then my uncle really got the bonfire going, which resulted in these terribly creepy pictures that make us look like lonely hill people:

Sorry, not that my aunt looks like a hill person. But my cousin Karl certainly does while photobombing Bethany and my sister, Joanie:

And there’s something really strange about seeing pictures of Bethany holding her niece and cackling as the fire swirls around them:

And then, of course, there’s Bethany and Joanie looking so happy as everything burns to the ground behind them:

Bethany looks almost gleeful with her dog, Honey:

And after I point out to them how crazed they appear, they decide to just go for it and start doing a fire dance on top of the bales of straw:

Then there was a moment of quiet reflection after my mom’s cousin told me I’m singlehandedly bringing the antichrist to America by being tolerant of religions other than Christianity:

We played with lights for a while and all loved the dog breath in this shot (and the way little Kaydence is looking up so expectantly):

Was I making fun of Bethany’s mom for being so old or for having her name on her jersey? The world may never know:

On Sunday, I went to church with my family, where people stood up and talked about how liberal professors are warping the minds of our children and how our country will be plunged into darkness and/or civil war if “we” don’t do something this election. I was sitting with my also-liberal great-aunt and -uncle, who were having their 60th anniversary party in the church basement afterward. Aaaaaaaaawkward.

Their original cake topper from 1952:

My sister, posing with one of the 60th anniversary notebooks-that-look-like-matches we were handing out at the punch bowl, where she and I were stationed for three hours:

But it was totally fun, because my cousins Will and Bethany spent most of it standing there with us, so we could all make fun of the people who came to the punch table and asked, “May I have a glass of punch, please?”, insinuating that Joanie should dip them a fresh one when we had five glasses sitting ready right in front of them:

This is the look my sister would give:

She’s not nearly as bitchy as she appears, though, at least when she’s with her husband, Josh, who is brilliant and waited until the last 15 minutes of the party to show up with our dad:

By that time, my great-uncle was all, “Stop, stop, no more pictures”:

And so Tracey and I went to the park in the center of “town” to meet up with our friend-since-birth Katie:

and our loooooooooong-time family friend, Erin, and her kids:

And everyone was a daredevil:

But no legs were broken. Only spirits, as moms pulled kids from the tops of jungle gyms over and over.

I spent Monday riding around the cornfields with my dad, taking the post-apocalyptic pictures you saw yesterday. My great-aunt picked me up that afternoon, and her friend drove us and my great-uncle to the airport because they’re afraid of the highways, and they freaked out about me wanting to be left at the passenger drop-off instead of everyone parking and accompanying me inside, because they looooooooove me.

OHIO!

Adventure Time with Kat and Kam: the East Village, Lower East Side, and Chinatown

Posted by katie ett on August 3, 2012 – 12:00 pm

Filed under adventure time, creepy boyfriend obsession, just pictures, living in new york is neat
Tagged as adventure time, creepy boyfriend obsession, just pictures, living in new york is neat

Kamran and I had no plan in mind for this walk but to drink some bubble tea and to eat some noodles at Xi’an Famous Foods, which is beloved by Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern and which we’ve talked about visiting approximately every five seconds of our five-year relationship. It was closed that day for no apparent reason, but at least we still got our bubble tea.

I know I’ve shown you versions of this next picture ten times already, but walking out of his building and seeing this against the sky just never fails to make me think, “This is New York City! I LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY!” The architecture in Tudor City is unmatched for me, as much as I love the glass-and-steel highrises in newer parts of the city. I think it’s because it makes me think of 55 Central Park West, the Ghostbusters building:

Kamran in Tudor City, being gorgeous:

The Chrysler Building, also being gorgeous:

Kamran outside of Thirstea in the East Village, where we stopped for bubble teas. He got honeydew, because he always gets honeydew, and I got Pixy Stix, because like there was any way I could resist that:

I always think this sign is going to say “Burger King”. It does not:

We went to Economy Candy and bought chocolate-covered s’mores and ate them in a park with a camel statue in it:

This thing actually tastes better than it looks. And it looks like The Best Thing Ever, soooooo . . .

Kinda want this sign painted on the gate over a store’s window to be recreated on my bedroom wall:

Kamran and I took pictures in front of this graffitied building just because it looks badass, and when I Googled 90 Bowery just to see what it used to be, I thought the place had been turned into condos. Then I realized that the sign actually says 190 Bowery and tried that instead. It turns out that HOLY SHIT, THIS IS SOMEONE’S HOUSE.

It’s a 72-room, six-story, 35,000-square-foot former bank that a photographer bought in the 60s for $100k and turned into a studio/gallery/home. That was back when the Bowery was known for drugs, prostitution, and rent-by-the-week apartments with a shared bathroom in the hallway where you were likely to get stabbed. And now it’s worth $35 million. But it’s priceless to those of us who need graffiti to look cool.

We stopped at Banh Mi Saigon so Kamran could have his first of the famous Vietnamese sandwiches:

You know it’s more authentic than Paris Sandwich down the street both because it has Saigon in the name and because it’s hidden in the back of a store behind a jewelry counter.

Notice the daze in Kamran’s eyes and the crumbs on his lips:

Just a bucket of frogs in Chinatown:

My second bubble tea of the day, an Oreo one from Bubbly Tea. Wait, I’m sorry. Did you see that I said it was an OREO BUBBLE TEA? One person should not live a life this decadent:

We stopped at Malaysia Beef Jerky next to buy pounds and pounds of what is totally not beef jerky at all but bakkwa, which is grilled so that it’s not so hard and chewy. It’s a little saucy, too, so we refer to it as “that wet beef jerky”, usually in a redneck accent:

This is a shrimpy pork jerky, because Kamran likes gross things.

Kamran looking a little bit lonely and lost with his bubble tea and bag of jerky:

Billy’s Antiques & Props closed a year or so ago, and we found it so fitting that the only thing that remains is a coffin in the midst of debris:

And some more pretty buildings to bring us back full circle:

Wouldn’t you just die to live on the upper floor of a building like that? I’m sure those apartments are just as awful as any other New York apartment, but they sure seem special.

ADVENTURE TIME!

The Jersey Shore Trip That Made Me Kind of Not Hate the Jersey Shore

Posted by katie ett on July 12, 2012 – 12:00 pm

Filed under all of my friends are prettier than i am, holidays don't suck for me, just pictures, travels
Tagged as 4th of july, all of my friends are prettier than i am, avalon, holidays don't suck for me, jersey shore, just pictures, travels

So . . . the Jersey shore is better than the Hamptons. My friends and I went to Avalon, which we basically knew nothing about except that renting houses there is about $21,000 cheaper per week than in the Hamptons. And after I signed the lease with our rental agent, she told me that the house is “not new but very beachy”, which I assumed was a nice way of saying “old and full of the sand of a thousand old men’s swimtrunk crotch areas”. So I was worried.

But it turns out that the town of Avalon is full of the cutest restaurants and shops called things like Pudgie Pelican Cafe and Uncle Bill’s Pancake House, that the houses are just as impressive as Hamptons houses, and that the people are so nice they actually said hello to us as we passed them on the sidewalks, which I haven’t experienced since I left Ohio.

And we even loved the house! Mostly because this was in the backyard:

Along with these three ducks, two of which my blogfriend-turned-inreallifefriend Kim C. won from a claw game at a Wendy’s along the way down, and one of which was given to her by a little girl we cheered on as she pumped her mother’s entire paycheck into the machine:

And also this hot tub, which was never mentioned on our lease and which my roommate/landlord/co-worker/friend, Jack, was clearly . . . surprised by/pleased by/pooping his pants over?:

And many, many of these glowing-eyed owls, which were meant to either ward off rodents or predatorially ogle us in the pool:

Our joy over these things allowed us to forgive the fact that the house was this many degrees all week long:

The rental agent called me on our way down to the house on Saturday and said, “The air-conditioning isn’t working properly, so the house won’t get as cool as you’d like. They’ll be out to fix it on Monday or Tuesday.” And by that she meant the next Saturday as we were leaving. Even though I’m not the type to complain, I toooootally wrote a letter to the rental agency. Kamran said I should have had him write it on his special lawyer stationary to make it seem really threatening.

But I didn’t want to threaten, because really, we had the greatest time, as you’ll see:

Jeff, Nik, Beth, and Andrew sitting by the pool, pretending to make conversation for the sake of this picture. I think this should be used in a brochure for the Jersey shore.

Nik doing what Nik did for most of the week. I took this picture from the pool. Which means my $1000 camera was in the pool. I drank a lot of Smirnoff that week.

Beth, who was probably technically the first friend I made in NYC, posing with the shady pool owl, who was turned to face the trees many times throughout the week to keep him from watching her in her bikini.

A frog by the outdoor shower, clearly not dissuaded by the pool owl.

Kim making sangria. From box wine. That spilled out all over the sides of the pitcher as we filled it more and more full of fruits.

Grillmaster Jeff, trying to be nice to the people who asked for their steaks well done.

Beth and Kim, our resident fashionistas, wearing actual clothes poolside.

I don’t remember what Beth is doing here, but this pretty accurately sums up her personality.

Nik deconstructing kebabs in the shade of the tree-fence by the pool.

Nik deciding to forego the deconstruction and just gnaw the hell out of the things.

Jack with his fancy Grolsch bottle, which we later used to capture and drown greenhead biting flies. The flies were the only drawback to Avalon, actually; apparently they live in the bay behind the town and fly over to the ocean when the wind is blowing that way. Murdering them made for some of my sweetest Avalon memories.

Kim K. kebab-stick-fighting with Jeff. No eyes were harmed in the making of this photo.

Kim C. posing in the bathing suit that showed me her boob.

I guess I should tell that story while I’m here, much as I’d just like to just mention her boob and leave it. So, the ocean was about two blocks from our house, on the other side of some woods with a path through them. Kim and I went one afternoon to jump some waves, and the ocean was a bit unwieldy. We were getting sucked under by the waves and then spit out on the shore over and over. The ocean was also really crabby, so every now and then when we’d put our feet down, a crab would clamp on for a second. Well, just as Kim was shrieking about a crab eating her heel, a particularly crazy wave knocked us both over, and when we came up, one of Kim’s boobs had totally popped out of her suit! So I screamed, “Your boob is showing! YOUR BOOB IS SHOWING!” And then another wave came and wiped us out again, and her sunglasses flew off her head and were gone forever (only someone who grew up in Cape Cod would wear sunglasses in the ocean, right?), and she had totally covered up her boob by the time we both recovered, so I didn’t even get to enjoy seeing it. She saw mine later, too, so we’re totally almost dating now.

I told Beth and Andrew to scowl at me. Beth is doing an amazing job, but Andrew looks like a friggin’ model.

On the 4th of July, we went to the beach to watch the fireworks just as the sun was setting.

It was my first time seeing fireworks on the beach (my hometown ones are set off in the high school parking lot, and I’m never on the waterfront for the NYC ones), and I love the way they reflected off the water and silhouetted all of us watching them.

The peanut butter and jelly sundae from Sundae Best Avalon. It was as good as it looks. Or better, if you think it looks like baby poo.

Kim C. in the pool, sippin’ on a lowball.

The Kims, looking ethereal in their bedroom on the first floor that was perfectly cooled the entire time because the air-conditioning actually worked down there.

Roommates Jeff and Nik, pretending to hate each other.

Roommates Jeff and Nik, pretending to like each other.

The whole group with the creepy owl, which we had forgiven for its lascivious ways and were feeling nostalgic about by the last day.

To say that this was our best trip in three years is like saying I’m mildly interested in getting Kim back into the ocean with an even less sturdy swimsuit. We spent approximately eight hours a day in the pool (and sometimes many more), the ocean was uncrowded and actually warm enough to swim in, every restaurant and store in town was run by sixteen-year-olds who were sweet and polite, there were places to kayak and paddleboard (which only 75% of us did, because eww, bay water), Jeff brought a projector so we could watch HBO on the living room wall, I wore nothing but tank tops and jersey shorts every day except for the night when we went to Atlantic City and ate Cuban food and I lost $3 on the slot machines but paid $5.99 to use an ATM, and I totally didn’t sunburn for the first time in three summers. I just got heat rash. No big deal.

JERSEY SHORE!

Adventure Time with Kat and Kam: Southern Roosevelt Island

Posted by katie ett on June 21, 2012 – 12:00 pm

Filed under adventure time, creepy boyfriend obsession, just pictures, living in new york is neat
Tagged as adventure time, creepy boyfriend obsession, just pictures, living in new york is neat

Between the East coast of Manhattan and the West coast of Queens is Roosevelt Island, a strip of land two miles long and 800 feet wide. You can walk from one side of it to the other in literally five minutes. It’s considered part of Manhattan, so the rents are high despite there being exactly one subway stop on the island and no actual way to get there from Manhattan by car. But the way you do get there is glorious. Before you actually get there, though–at least if you’re Kamran and me–you have to make a couple of stops.

We started at Kamran’s neighborhood CoCo for bubble teas and took them to Dag Hammarskjold Plaza, which is clearly the most rolls-off-the-tongue park in NYC. Birds cooed on the arches above us, the United Nations building beckoned from across the street, and a heavily Photoshopped sky loomed darkly over Jesus.

We walked along the river in the park below Beekman Place and stared across the East River to Roosevelt Island, which has this creepy old shell of a building on one end that’s always lit up at night, making it even creepier:

On the way, we’d stopped at Choux Factory for cream puffs that aren’t nearly as huge and gushing as the ones at Schmidt’s in Ohio but come in more interesting flavors. I barely care about blueberries at all and nearly passed out from the deliciousness of this:

Kamran looks pretty pleased with his boring vanilla, too:

But then we spotted this on our way out of the park and threw them both up:

We walked up to 59th Street and watched the tram to Roosevelt Island come in:

And then we boarded it ourselves and took it across the river. I’ll never get over how it feels to hang so far up in the air, to see taxis look like matchbox cars, and to peek into the windows of twentieth floor apartments like that pervert Superman.

hanging in mid-air over the East River

the many apartment buildings of Roosevelt Island

a sign evidently left over from the days when Roosevelt Island was known as Welfare Island

the Queensboro Bridge, which passes over the island on its way from Manhattan to Queens

Kamran under the bridge with a Queens power plant in the background

seagulls over the Goldwater Hospital

Manhattan through the gates surrounding Southpoint Park

this was a really terrible picture, but then I made it look retro, so now it’s art

the Pepsi sign, one of my favourite parts of Queens, through the grass on Roosevelt Island

the tippy-top of the old Smallpox Hospital

This thing was built in 1856, lasted 100 years, and then fell into disrepair after it was abandoned. (Here‘s a picture of it from the 1870s that’s so romantic it makes me kind of want smallpox.) In 1976, it was designated a New York City Landmark and then . . . left to rot some more. The city is currently working to stabilize the building so that it can be open to the public when the new park on the very Southern tip of the island is finished. It’s lit up at night with green lights that make it look suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper haunted-housey from Manhattan, so it was awesome to finally see the thing up close and realize that it’s just as creepy as we thought.

Kamran, looking pretty wary of the ghosts

and then looking happy

and then looking like he really wishes I’d stop so we could eat the Milky Way we brought with us

After walking all over the Southern tip, which is really just a couple thousand feet long, we got back on the tram and rode into 59th Street again:

looking North up 1st Avenue

a, um, rather specialized store on 60th Street

Kamran looking sad, because Sprinkles was closed

purdy archytecture

Aaaaaaaaaaaand then we went home.

The End.

Photodump!

Posted by katie ett on June 13, 2012 – 12:00 pm

Filed under just pictures
Tagged as just pictures

PURGE DAY! Here are some things I’ve had sitting around in my “to blog about” folder, some of them literally for four years (look! not all of them are even watermarked!):